Type
by Chele
Summary: Reflecting on one’s past helps one to move on to the future. Set two years after Season Four. This is the sequel to IT HURTS TO KNOW. [S, T, Tu implied]


Title: Type  
Author: Chele  
Rating: PG  
Category: Angst, Friendship  
Codes: S, T, Tu (implied)   
Summary: Reflecting on one's past helps one to move on to the future. Set two years after Season Four.  
Author's Notes: It's fitting that my last _Enterprise_ fic would be the sequel to ("It Hurts to Know") the first fic I ever wrote. I'm just glad that I was able to grow somewhat in my writing along the years.   
Disclaimer: Some things, you'll see, are canon. Other than that, this fic was written purely for enjoyment and to have a good tear-jerker here and there. No infringement intended, and no money made. Enjoy!

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_Thursday._ The day was Thursday, a school day. She had excused herself from working at the university, from teaching her honors students, from being professor and head of staff of the linguistics department, from being anything or anywhere else but here, on this day.

Last year, it was Saturday, a dreary Saturday where she spent the entire afternoon "talking" to him at his grave. Last year was the first anniversary of his death. She had dressed herself in black, just because, and brought white lilies, just because.

This year, however, she felt different. Maybe because her career was advancing at an unbelievably extraordinary rate or maybe because she was dating again or, even, maybe she was starting to let go. That scared her, she didn't want to let go, didn't want to think about the thought of letting go.

Yet, here she was, in a peach-colored sundress with a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers. Why she chose spring colors was beyond her but, somewhere in the back of her mind, she could recall vaguely the way he complimented how such colors highlighted her golden skin, made her look like a goddess when she was out in the sun. And the sun was definitely shining.

As she made her way to the grave, her sandals crunching on the green grass beneath, the aroma of fresh cut grass filling her nose, she pictured in her mind the last time she saw the tombstone.

_Charles Tucker III  
Beloved Son and Brother_

She wanted to add beloved friend…and lover. She took a deep breath. There were so many times he was a lover but, most importantly, was a friend. A small breeze brushed her body, the skirt of her dress flowing delicately in the wind, and she shivered slightly. It wasn't that she was cold, just anticipation coursing through her. She was grateful that she had swept her hair up in a clean bun or else she would have had to deal with a hot neck.

She froze; her bouquet limped at her side. Someone was sitting in front of his grave.

"T'Pol?" she asked.

T'Pol's back straightened and it looked as if she had interrupted some type of meditation. T'Pol turned to face her.

"Ensign."

It had seemed like so long ago since she had been called that. "Its Hoshi now, remember? We're no longer on the Enterprise."

T'Pol stood up and gently dusted her Vulcan robe. "Yes…you are right." 

They both averted their eyes and T'Pol cleared her throat. The clouds above began to change; the sun was no longer shining; only a gloomy atmosphere remained. "I believe I should let you have your opportunity now. It wouldn't be proper for me to…take your time." 

"Sure," Hoshi replied softly.

"You did the same for me last year. I have…repaid your…kindness."

Hoshi could sense that T'Pol seemed to be struggling to keep her emotions in check on the outside. Her eyes gave her away. They always did; if she was uncomfortable, upset, pleased, her eyes would show it, even if the rest of her face didn't.

"There's no need to repay every single tiny thing, T'Pol." Hoshi tried to sound as if she was joking, but her voice seemed to betray her and she unwittingly spat the words out.

T'Pol didn't reply, but swiftly walked past her. Hoshi could only stare at the tombstone. She then noticed two candles, one on each side, lit. She knew T'Pol used tall candles, and these were already half gone, indicating the amount of time she had spent at his grave.

"T'Pol, wait!" Hoshi called, turning around.

T'Pol paused, her back still against Hoshi.

"I…I'm sorry," Hoshi whispered weakly. She gulped, this was harder than she expected, yet she had to settle things with T'Pol.

"You don't have to apologize…" T'Pol turned to face her. "I've spent enough time with humans to learn much about your culture. You're grieving, and I understand."

The sky suddenly roared with thunder. "You understand? What the hell do you understand about _anything_ that I'm feeling right now!"

T'Pol was about to turn around again.

"Ohhh, no!" Hoshi said sternly. "When are you ever going to learn to stick around, T'Pol?" She was saying T'Pol's name a lot, it was a welcome change to the stiff title of "sub-commander." It made Hoshi feel that they were on the same level.

"I will 'stick around' when you learn to talk," T'Pol quipped back.

"But I **am** talking." Hoshi noticed the light drops beginning to fall; she could feel the cold wetness on her bare arms.

"No. _You_ are upset and speaking in anger. Your thoughts are clouding your judgment and, therefore, your words. So, you were _not_ talking, but _yelling_." 

Hoshi stared at her and began to laugh, a laugh that came from deep within her. She clutched her stomach when she saw T'Pol's eyebrow arch up.

When she calmed down, she said, "Do you realize this is the first time, in years, we've had a conversation that's lasted over a courteous, and forced, hello and goodbye?" 

"Yes," T'Pol agreed.

"It's been two years," Hoshi said, changing the light mood.

"It has." T'Pol looked away, and Hoshi felt she was pretending to focus her attention somewhere else.

"He was…important…to us, you know?" Hoshi said. She couldn't bear to say they both loved him but, she was slowly beginning to realize, T'Pol did love him, if ever a Vulcan would admit to such an emotion, just as much as she had. 

T'Pol looked at Hoshi. "He was a good human."

"He was a good _man_," Hoshi corrected.

"Of course." 

"Not to say he was perfect."

"Who, of us, is?" 

"But he could make you laugh," Hoshi tilted her head at T'Pol, "if you're into that."

"His humor proved to be almost fatal with our politics on more than…one occasion." 

"He was romantic."

"If you are 'into that'." 

"He knew how to fix things."

"The only reason he qualified for the Enterprise."

"He was a charmer." 

"It was his persistence in disguise."

"Yet, best of all…he was self-sacrificing."

T'Pol did not say a word. Hoshi knew there wasn't anything to say then.

"Hoshi…I've been meditating…believing I could come to some higher understanding. To subdue these overwhelming emotions which are beginning to surface once again. I haven't felt like this in years."

Hoshi stared at her. She saw the woman who became the object of Trip's affections before he died. T'Pol was tall and lean; she had trimmed her hair shorter since the last time she saw her, reminding Hoshi of the first time they met aboard the starship. T'Pol's pointy ears were prominent among her features, and Hoshi remembered how Trip liked alien women.

She shook her head in disgust. She didn't want to care whether T'Pol was having an identity crisis, or emotional crisis, or whatever she was feeling, because Hoshi was hurt. How could Trip have told her he loved _her_, come back for _her_, promise he'd wait for _her_? And how could T'Pol have come between them if she knew her history with Trip?

Hoshi stared into T'Pol's eyes, waiting to see laughter within them, the taunts, the triumphant victory. But all she saw was…pain, sorrow, grief? Years ago, they had both wanted Trip, and now, years later, neither were with him. 

"I don't know how I can help you," she answered T'Pol. "If you want me to feel sorry for you, I could try, but I can't make any promises."

If T'Pol were affected by Hoshi's words she didn't show it but said, "I want to share my memories of Trip with you."

"What for?" The raindrops began to drizzle. "So you can torture me again with your mind games?" 

T'Pol flinched at the memory of trying, in her way, to comfort Hoshi after they all believed Trip had died while coming back from Oknashta on a mission to find the antidote to cure Hoshi's virus. "No, I'm merely attempting to soothe my conflicting emotions."

The rain began to pour heavily and neither seemed to care.

"Why me?" Hoshi asked. She thought T'Pol was somehow playing her.

"You are the only one I know who has become intimate with Trip on more than just the physical aspect of a relationship."

"Oh, I see. You think Trip came to me whenever he needed someone to talk to."

"You are better able to understand how I am— what is permeating my mind that I would like to…"

"…let go of," Hoshi finished. "I get it. I completely get it. You just want to move on with your life so you can forget about Trip and, as a result, forget about me; because, according to you, I've been a bitch."

"That's not want I meant. Trip wouldn't want—"

"Don't speak to me about what Trip would want," Hoshi cut in. Whenever T'Pol spoke about Trip it upset her.

"I did not intend to anger you."

"Well, what did you intend, then?" Hoshi scoffed. "That I'd forgive you? That I'd just say, 'Okay, T'Pol, you win!'" Hoshi threw her arms in the air for emphasis, forgetting about the sunflowers she had brought. They fell to the ground. "You got Trip! Trip loves _you_!"

"Love_d_," T'Pol corrected.

In one swift moment, Hoshi was in front of T'Pol. She slapped the other woman on the cheek; T'Pol's face forced the other way.

Slowly, T'Pol turned back to Hoshi, her eyes glaring at her.

"How **dare** you gloat," Hoshi said, shakily. "I loved him. And I thought he loved me back. But something changed since the day his sister died when the Xindi attacked Earth. He hardly spoke to me, he shut me out. Instead, he went to you. Why?" Hoshi asked, her head shaking in disbelief. 

T'Pol touched the cheek where Hoshi slapped her and Hoshi ignored it. "He needed help sleeping, and I was able to offer my assistance."

"He needed help sleeping? Sounds more like he needed to sleep with someone and you sure put out for him." 

T'Pol blinked and Hoshi knew she was suppressing her own anger. She knew her words cut, but she wanted T'Pol to feel everything she felt.

"He still loved you deeply," T'Pol stated, changing the subject.

"If he loved me as much as he said he did, why did he still sleep with you?"

"He was confused, so was I. We both were experiencing new feelings, emotions he wanted to explore, emotions I wanted to suppress."

"Was he so confused that he thought you were me?" Hoshi asked sarcastically.

"I believe he did, or wanted to believe." 

Hoshi paused. She couldn't believe what she heard.

"We're similar in some ways, Hoshi," T'Pol continued. "We're intelligent, independent, strong-willed, and stubborn at times. You have, as I recall him saying once, 'magic ears,' and I, have, 'the special nose'."

Hoshi crossed her arms.

"He still loved you; he loved the personification of you. And I…became attached to him, to his loyalty, even if it really was for you. I was, in a way, a representation of you. Then I became pregnant—" 

"You were **pregnant**!" Hoshi was heavily soaked from the rain and this time she shivered because of the cold.

"The child did not survive," T'Pol said, a hint of sadness or regret in her voice.

Hoshi suddenly thought of the dreams she had of Trip while on the _Enterprise_. They were really T'Pol's; she saw Trip through T'Pol's eyes.

If only she had known she still had a chance with him…But now, it was too late. 

"Sometimes I think…its better that Trip's dead," Hoshi whispered. It was as if her mind and body were separated, like someone else was speaking instead of her. She didn't even feel the blow to her cheek when T'Pol slapped her.

"You should appreciate what he did," T'Pol stated. "He didn't have to kill himself to save us, but he wanted to, to show how much we all meant to him."

"I'm not happy that Trip's dead," Hoshi replied coldly, her statement as close to an apology. "I would rather see him happy with someone else than the ground he sleeps in."

"I do not wish to fight you anymore," T'Pol said, offering a truce.

"Neither do I." Hoshi was tired of the cold war between them.

"This will be my last visit. Koss would like to start a family on Vulcan, and I conceded." 

"What about your part in politics?" Hoshi asked.

"Koss believes my part in politics has run its course."

"What do _you_ believe?"

"It is necessary that I listen to…my husband. I have caused enough shame to my family as it is." 

"I can't believe this! Whatever happened to being intelligent, independent, strong-willed, and stubborn!" Hoshi punctuated each word, the thunder in the background adding emphasis. 

T'Pol took a step back. "I thought you would be satisfied with my absence. You would never have to see me again."

Hoshi sighed in exasperation. "It was never about seeing you, T'Pol. We were friends, or as close to being more than acquaintances. But I lost sight of that. I was hurt, upset, hated you."

"Hate is a very strong emotion."

"I don't hate _you_. I hated what happened between us, _all_ of us. The war changed everything, changed _us_. We started from being on a mission to discover new planets, peoples, and cultures, to being pulled into a war we knew nothing about. We began to doubt ourselves, doubt each other, hate what we didn't even know to hate." She looked at T'Pol and said, softly, "We became persons we didn't know anymore. We were on a mission of survival." Hoshi closed her eyes briefly, tears began to form and she tried to hold them in. "I'm hurt, in pain, angry, even _hate_ that we lost those we loved." 

Hoshi looked at the surrounding graves. "I often wonder why in the world I survived. What was so special about me that I lived?" 

A small silence drifted between them before T'Pol spoke. "I recall one night when Trip visited me in my quarters. He told me a story about his younger sister. They lived in an area where it stormed often. On those nights, they would hear thunder, and flashes of lightning would illuminate their home. Elizabeth, he said, would run to his room since he was right next door and she would always say this statement, which I see as illogical, 'It's raining cats and dogs, and I don't know why.'"

"You don't _always_ have to know why," Hoshi said.

T'Pol looked at her. "Yes. That would be his reply, and she would—"

"—crawl on his bed and he would hold her until the storm passed," Hoshi finished. "I remember that, too. It was his favorite memory of her." She looked away as a teardrop rolled down her cheek, mixing with the rain.

"Hoshi, as illogical as it may be to me, a Vulcan, it means more to you, a human. You don't always have to know why."

"You know," Hoshi said, "Trip was cute, but he never really was my type."

"Neither was he my type, but we were _his_ type."

The last trace of thunder quieted down.

"Yeah, we are."

_Fin_


End file.
